


Lilies Bring Fortune

by TheTofuEatingCat



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: AC3, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Assassin's Creed - Freeform, Assassin's Creed 3, Connor Kenway x Reader - Freeform, Connor gets hurt, F/M, Witch - Freeform, Witchcraft AU, connor is a sweetheart, kind of, the reader is a witch, there's a talking cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 22:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTofuEatingCat/pseuds/TheTofuEatingCat
Summary: You're a Witch, but not like the horrid rumors make you out to be. Sure you live in a cottage in the middle of the woods, brewing up all sorts of potions and casting spells. But that doesn't mean you hurt others, in fact, you do the opposite. You use your magick to heal.





	Lilies Bring Fortune

Gunshots blared in the distance, echoing across the forest over the sound of the babbling creek. You paused, listening intently as shouting and the clopping of hooves made its way to your ears. Plucking the last bit of yarrow, you stood whilst putting it into your basket. The commotion seemed to be getting closer, and the last thing you needed was to be caught in the middle of it. You swiftly maneuvered your way through the forest of birch trees, seeking cover behind a grove of sumacs. Pulling your pointed hat further down on your head, you peaked through the growth to see a hooded man rush past on a stallion. Close behind him, a small battalion of redcoats galloped past on their own cavalry.  
You watched bewildered as the small stampede raced onwards, chasing after the hooded man. A sigh left your lips as you went back to foraging for potion ingredients. A chickadee chirped from a branch above as you spotted a growth of rosemary not too far away. Whilst plucking the leaves, the thought of one of its many thought properties sprung to your mind. It apparently could keep witches away. A small snort escaped your nose as you thought of the irony: a witch picking rosemary.  
You continued through the forest, wildlife milling around but keeping their distance. You strolled alongside the creek that would lead you back to your little cottage, the babbling brook a source of clean water for you. Watergrasses like bullrush grew in the more stagnant portions of the stream, allowing nurseries for fry of all species to seek shelter. Moving under a weeping willow, you came to a small grove where your cottage resigned.  
It was a quaint little dwelling, the outside was draped in ivy, almost as if the forest wanted to conceal the abode. A small front porch left enough room for a rocking chair and a pot of sage. Opening the front door would welcome you into a central living space comprised of a what looked to be more of an alchemy lab than a kitchen, a living area with pots of many different plants adorning the space. A cluttered shelf with dozens of books sat at one end of the space. A hallway leading to the left led to a bedroom, washroom, and spare broom closet. Up a narrow flight of stairs led to a room filled with even more potted plants (if that was even possible).  
As you entered the bungalow, a meowing caught your attention. Karma, your black cat, strode forward and sniffed at your dirty boots. She was your familiar, helping you occasionally with making potions and tending to your plants and herbs that needed very careful attention. A smile graced your lips as she jumped up onto the counter and pointed her tail at a potion you had been brewing for the past three days.  
“Oh! Is it finished?” You set down your basket and unclipped your shawl then approached the tiny cauldron that sat cooling beside the burner candle. The potion swirling inside was the perfect shimmering hue of lavender.  
“You took this off the flame at the perfect time!” You praised the feline who held her head high at the compliment.  
“Now.. I think we have one more lotus flower, then this will be complete.” Opening an above head cabinet, you moved jars filled with numerous ingredients aside to search for a lotus flower. A groan escaped your lips as you pulled out a jar labeled with the very flower you needed, only to find it empty.  
“I could’ve sworn I had water lily!” You chitled yourself. Karma mewed at your side.  
‘Are you sure you checked water lilies? And not any other lily?’ A flush of blood rose to your cheeks as your familiar pointed out your obvious mistake.  
“Holy crow, I am such a dork!” You spat out as you trudged back over to your basket and shawl. The feline leaped down from the counter and trotted over to you with the bottle for water lily in her maw.  
“Thank you Karma. I’ll be back soon!” With that, you were back off trotting through the woods that you knew almost better than your herbs.

 

*     *     *

 

The river was flowing strong downstream, and you knew that the wetlands where the river emptied into were approaching quickly. The quartz crystals that hung from strings at your hip tinkled with every step, melodically joining the chorus of the river. Nearby, a mother fox trotted with its kits and paused to watch you pass. The fox kits yapping excitedly at the sight of a new thing to explore. A smile graced your lips as a bold kit nipped at your flowing skirt as you walked on. The other three kits, emboldened by their sibling, joined in the fun of nibbling at your hem.  
Oh, the perks of being a witch.  
As you continued on, the sharp yap of the mother fox caught the attention of the kits, who begrudgingly yet obediently regrouped with their mother. Leaving you to continue down the side of the creek alone. Sunlight sparkled through the tops of the trees, cascading down onto the ground and rippling water.  
Something white in the river caught your eye. Ice seeped into your veins and a gasp escaped your lips as you realized what it was. A man was washed up on the bank. Hurriedly scuttling down the side of the bank you came to a stop beside the man and lead seemed to fill your stomach as you noticed dark crimson stains against the stark white of his coat. It looked as if he had pitifully tried to climb out of the river and only made it halfway.  
With a bit of difficulty, you turned him over on his back to reveal a handsome face of a native. He had a sturdy jawline and equal nose. His physique was incredibly muscular, as you could feel his muscles underneath his clothing. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of his chest, which was soaked in blood. Immediately, you bent down to listen for a heartbeat.  
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.  
Relief washed over you as you heard the weak, but steady heartbeat of the man. Grasping him under his arms, you heaved with all your strength to pull him out of the river and up the bank. He was unresponsive as you did so, and once on the side of the hill you set him down and pulled out your wand.  
The familiar smooth wood felt reassuring in your hand and the weight of the quartz crystal at the end reminded you of the time spent under the watchful eye of your coven. Bending down, you opened his shirt to assess the damage inflicted to him. Deep slashes were prominent on his chest, and what you saw to be a gunshot wound on his left side caught your attention. All of the wounds were an angry red, signifying that his body was fighting infection.  
“I need to stop the bleeding..” You held the wand over his chest and begun to whisper a quick healing spell, one that would stop the bleeding enough for you to get him back to your cottage.  
“Mother Moon,  
I ask of you,  
To relieve this man,  
of bleeding wounds.  
With this spell,  
I cast on he,  
May he, no longer bleed.”  
A soft light emitted from the tip of your wand, and a trickle of magick fell to his wounds. The light seemed to soak into his flesh and skin where it faded into his body. A determined smile found its way to your face as you turned to stand and pull out a carved stone from your satchel.  
The stone was elegantly carved in runes, giving the object a mystical air. Placing the stone on the ground, you traced its runes with the tip of your wand. The crystal glowed with a green light which spilled into the grooves carved into the stone. The viridian light seeped into the ground, and you stepped back to watch as roots heaved themselves up from the earth to form around the stone. The roots twisted and compressed around themselves and vines wrapped the outer surface of the now forming root golem. You continued to funnel magick into the elemental, taking form in the green light that sprouted from your wand. As the act finished, a wave of tiredness washed over you like the tides by the ocean shores.  
But, before you stood a brilliant golem that gingerly picked up the injured man and now walked alongside you as you backtracked towards your bungalow. Heavy footsteps sounded everytime the elemental took a step forward, and you trudged alongside nibbling on a stale piece of bread and taking the occasional swig of a glittering yellow potion that would aid in you restoring your magick.  
Above, a crow called out: cawing to any nearby friends in surrounding trees. Placing a petite hand on the golem, you steadied your footsteps to preserve strength. Man, that golem spell had taken a lot out of you. But, as you glanced at the native in the cradling arms of the elemental; you knew you had no other choice. Dragging him back to your cottage would have done you no good, as he would most likely be gone by then, a stopping bleeding spell or not.  
The golem ducked under the curtain of willow branches that signified your grove. The ancient weeping willow was titanic, and it was only bolstered by your magic that you fed to it every full moon. You could only guess its hight, which was most likely reaching the 200 foot mark. Some of its branches were thick enough to be sizable trees on their own, with its lower branches being low enough for even you to be able to climb.  
The golem paused outside of your house as Karma came racing out, a shocked look on her feline face.  
‘What’s going on?’ The cat mewed as she looked up at the goliath holding the man.  
“I found him by the river, he’s seriously injured. Go get healing potions, tonics, my Book of Sigils, and Grimoire.” You rushed inside, not even bothering to take off your shawl and haphazardly tossing aside your basket. Rushing upstairs, you opened the door to the alchemy balcony, where the golem lifted up the man to you.  
“Thank you.” You spoke kindly as you took the heavy man in your arms. Good gods, he was a bear. With great difficulty, you lifted him into the guest bed, which had never been used by anyone besides Karma. There, you pulled up a chair and begun to disrobe his upper torso, peeling away bloodsoaked clothing. His body was toned and tanned and was the epiphany of a warrior.  
As you worked to remove his clothing, Karma came trotting up the stairs with a basket of potions.  
‘You’re going to need more than just potions.’ The feline commented as she analyzed his wounds.  
“I know, get me some thread an’ needles, as well as bandages and old clean rags.” The feline padded down the stairs once more as you sidelined his bloodied jacket. As you did so, two gauntlets at his wrists caught your attention. A strange symbol was etched into the metal, and you went to remove and examine the bracers only to find they were not what they seemed. You let out a startled yelp when a blade revealed itself with a metallic shnk-  
What exactly does this man do for a living? You stared at the unconscious man’s face as you set aside the dangerous weapon and removed his undershirt to better assess his wounds.  
You spotted the major slash across his right side of his upper chest, and the grazing gunshot wound at his left side. But as you dabbed away the blood with a cloth you began to see more and more smaller wounds, and scars where previous blades had met their mark. Your eyebrows creased as you continued to look at the man in scrutiny, figuring out which wounds should be taken care of first.  
Karma came padding in with your books in her jaws and started rummaging through many of the basic supplies she had also delivered. The feline busied herself with placing candles at the four nodes, north, south, east and west: for the elements earth, fire, air, and water respectively. The familiar then held a paw to each of the wicks, each one bursting into flame while reciting a familiar verse to set up a circle.  
‘Beings of Air, Guardians of the east…’ You continued to work diligently, cleaning the wounds and prepping them for healing. The first wound would be the bullet graze, as it was bleeding profusely now that the anti-bleeding spell was wearing off.  
‘Circle is ready. Need anything else?’ Karma questioned as she sat beside you.  
“No, we should be good. I hope that this goes well.” Leafing through your grimoire, you flicked to a powerful healing spell. Pointing the tip of your wand at the bullet wound you began to speak aloud.  
“Healing light  
With ye’ great might.  
May you heal this body right.  
From my heart,  
I give my part,  
To heal him wholly  
With magick’s great art.” A white light once more spilled onto his wounds as you repeated the chant, feeling a light drain of energy trickling from within. The light seeped into his flesh, and you could begin to see the magick stitch his flesh back together. Hope welled up inside your chest like a warm cup of tea as you determinedly continued to heal the major wounds the man had sustained.  
As you waved your wand over top of him, you delicately dabbed away the blood that continued to well up. Finally, you had reduced many of the gashes by half, but the major wounds still could be healed further. Setting down your wand, you pulled forward the basket of healing potions and tonics and sifted through them to locate the antiseptic with a base of aloe. Giving the potion a thorough shake, you began to apply the tonic.  
For the first time since finding the man, he gave a jerking reaction, obviously flinching away from the stinging. His facial expression twitched in his sleep, forming a creasing brow and frown. He looked flushed. You came to rest the back of your hand to his brow, feeling that it was a bit warm, you quickly wrung out a wet cloth and laid it across his forehead.  
You returned to applying the ointment, getting subtle reactions from him every time you brushed past a little too hard against a tender spot. After applying the ointments, you took a swig of the magick recovery potion. Who knew healing was such hard work?  
Karma sat watching your every move as you pulled out a specialty sewing kit. Threading the needle and soaking the string in a second healing tonic, you begun to stitch the bullet wound. An uncomfortable grunt roiled up from his throat at the first few stitches, and you sat absentmindedly cooing words of encouragement every time he vocalized in his sleep.  
Soon, the main wounds had been stitched and sealed. Which only left small cuts to be tended to, which were easily healed with ointment and bandages. You applied simple anti-inflammatory tonics around the major wounds to ease the swelling. Then a paste of healing salve over top of the cuts to aid in the recovery.  
Taking the roll of bandaging, you began to bandage the man’s torso, and right arm where the large gash started. After finishing wrapping him up, you pulled out a brush and bottle of ink then flipped open your sigil book to show a picture of an elegantly drawn healing symbol that reduced pain.  
“Can you hold this up for me?” You questioned Karma who mewed in response and held up the book. On the bandaging you drew on the intricate sigil. A swirl there, and swoop there. Dotting along that line… Finished. Picking up your wand, you pressed the tip to the sigil, which lit up a beautiful azure light at its touch. The light faded as the spell took its effect.  
“That’ll work. I think we’re finished.” You smiled down to Karma with tired eyes, drained at all the magick you had used.  
‘You should really sit down, or lay down. You look exhausted.’ The feline spoke with a worried look in her amber eyes.  
“You’re probably right…” You mumbled as you pocketed the wand and began to put away your things while the black cat closed the magick circle. Picking up your materials, you trudged downstairs to place them back. A small yawn escaping your mouth as you finished putting back your potions.  
Downing a magick potion, you washed your hands in the water basin, cleaning them of any blood that may stained your hands. After drying them off, your body went on autopilot and guided you back towards your room where you had just enough strength to kick off your shoes before passing out on your comfy bed.

You awoke roughly an hour and a half later, with the sun now dipping towards the horizon at a quick pace, it was probably late afternoon. You sat up in bed, hair awry and hat smothered against the pillows.  
Gods I needed that cat-nap.  
You stood up, placing your hat on your head and moving upstairs to check on your newest patient. He was sleeping peacefully, a steady breathing rhythm that was much stronger than before when you found the man. You took a glance at his outerwear which you had stripped off of him. His white outer coat was still covered in blood, rips and tears.  
Scoffing, you moved to pick up the clothing to wash it and stitch it. Grabbing your washboard and soaps you went down to the creek to draw some fresh water. You sat stream-side washing out the blood, dirt, and sweat from the clothing, the sudzy water covering your forearms in fragrant bubbles.  
After cleaning the clothes, you hung them up on a line that attached from the house to the nearest willow branch. Pulling out your wand, you conjured up a small wind spell to help dry the clothing.  
Turning back into your bungalow you saw Karma napping on a stack of books that sat on the coffee table. A smile graced your lips; she may be your familiar, but she was still a cat at heart. Making your way into the kitchen you swiftly brewed yourself a cup of tea. The pleasant aroma mixing with the many other herb and spice smells that filled the room.  
You wandered back outside to find the clothing dry, a welcome find. Taking the clothes you went back inside to sit down in the living area and begun to sew his clothing where any multitude of weapons pierced his clothing.  
As you sewed, you contemplated exactly who this man was. He had hidden blades concealed in wrist bracers, was a native, and on top of all of it, found him washed up in a river hanging onto a thread of his life. As you continued to ponder, you realized you messed up a stitch and went back to correct it.  
Should I sew sigils into his clothes to protect him?  
Should I even have helped him? What if he’s a dangerous criminal? These questions were only just coming to your mind, and you paused your stitching.  
What if he wakes up and sees my wiccan materials? Or other magical tools? Will he kill me if he finds out I’m a witch? The Salem trials may be over, but that doesn’t negate the fact that people are still wary of us. Perhaps I should carve a new golem stone so I can place him by the road…  
A noise caught your attention as the creaking of wood came from upstairs. You froze as you heard the sound descend the stairs and meet you face to face in the stairwell.  
The male was up, and by the gods was he huge. He stood towering and powerful, despite him holding his wounds with a bandaged arm. He stopped in his tracks to turn and stare at you, his brown eyes alert and calculating.  
He recovered fast.  
“Who are you?” He asked tentatively, questions swirling in his dark eyes as he looked you up and down, seemingly peering into your soul.  
“I-I’m (y/n). My name is (y/n).” You spoke timidly as you set aside his clothing you were stitching. Beside you, Karma sat up from her nap.  
“Are- are you feeling well? Bandages not too tight?” You questioned as you stood, a feeling of smallness casting over you as you approached the broad shouldered male. He seemed caught off guard at the question, as his eyebrows raised slightly.  
“They are fine.” He paused seemingly thinking of his next words.  
“You must be a very talented healer.” A look of surprise adorned your face.  
“O-oh. Thank you. I had a very good teacher.” You trailed off, thinking of your coven leader who was burned at the stake.  
“Although, I am curious to what this symbol is.” He pointed to the sigil you had drawn on his bandages.  
Oh bollocks.  
“Uh… It’s- Ah-”  
“It is what?” The male questioned after you sputtered incoherently for a few seconds trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t condemn you to being a witch. You glanced to Karma with a pleading look, but she only gave you look that told you figure it out yourself.  
“It’s a sigil. A healing sigil- They’re used to promote healing.” You sputtered out. He blinked owlishly and glanced back down.  
“Like a Witch would use?” Crap.  
“I- I, uh-”  
“I will not judge you if you are one. I grew up with stories of good magic in my tribe.” You let loose a breath you had no idea you were even holding, relief slumping off your shoulders like sandbags.  
“Oh thank goodness…” You breathed as the man looked down at you, curiosity sparking in his mind.  
“You use magick?” He questioned, and you perked up.  
“Y-yes! I work a lot with medicines. I add enchantments to them to make them much more potent, when I do sell them however, I don’t tell anyone about the magick part… I could be hanged or burned for that.” A look of concern flashed across his face.  
“Burned?” A tone of anger edging into his voice. You nodded as you went over to the kitchen to pour yourself another cup of tea, only to find the kettle cold. Pulling out your wand you muttered a small spell to spark a flame beneath it to reheat it. You heard the man intake a breath of surprise at the fire just sparking at nothing but the wand.  
“Yes. ‘Tradition’ says the only way to rid oneself of a witch is to burn them at the stake.” You paused, knuckles turning white from the memory of your coven and your coven-master being burned, their screams and the putrid smell of burning flesh filling the air as spectators cheered on. You physically grimaced.  
“They had to be burned, alive.” This was the first time you really had anyone else besides Karma to confide in, and you felt tears nip at the corners of your eyes.  
“I- I am sorry. I know how it feels to have those you love burned before your eyes.” The male spoke, and you turned to him with concern on your face.  
“A man named Charles Lee came to my village and burned it to the ground. My mother died in the fire…” He trailed off, his voice becoming low and stricken with grief. His brows knitted together in frustration as he recalled the events on that horrid day.  
“I will hunt him down, and make him pay for that.” A scowl came across his face as he spoke the words.  
“What is your name?” You asked sheepishly, curious to the man you had saved.  
“Connor, my name is Connor.”  
“Connor.” You tested the name on your tongue, it fit him, but not perfectly. You suspected he had a different birth name, but decided not to press the subject.  
“Tea?” You offered him a cup, which he accepted with gratefulness.  
“(Y/n), was it?” He questioned in a deep voice, the way he said your name made shivers fall down your spine.  
“Yes.”  
“Are you the only one living here?” You were caught off guard.  
“Ah, yes.. Besides Karma.” You nodded to the black cat who hopped off of the stack of books and onto the floor. The male glanced at the stack of books the cat had been sitting on before picking one up, the old leather bound tome cracked with age.  
“How did you become a witch?” Connor questioned as he paged through your copy of Crystals, Rocks, and their Powers.  
“I was inducted into a coven, I believe I was six or seven.” You sighed, you didn’t recall much from your earlier days as a witch but being taught from such a young age helped you keep all of the knowledge, as you used much of it in your daily life.  
“Now, mind indulging me on how you got so badly injured?” Connor shifted uncomfortably, as if he was unsure about telling you.  
“I am an assassin.” He spoke hesitantly. Your breath hitched as the words he spoke sunk in.  
“I got caught in a British ambush. I- I was reckless. But, some of my people had been taken hostage. I could not let them die.” He seemingly looked away in shame.  
“Connor, what you did was honorable, saving your people. I wish I could’ve saved those that I loved and cared for.” You strode up to him and was careful as to where you placed your reassuring hands. The native stiffened under your touch, as if he wasn’t used to contact, or maybe he was just in pain from his wounds…  
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Connor. I mean, I found you and you’re alive!” An upbeat tone sparked in your voice. The male blinked in surprise before speaking once more.  
“I suppose so.” Connor mumbled as you gave him a reassuring smile and went back to work sewing up his tattered clothing. The male watched you with unwavering onyx eyes as your nimble fingers fixed the holes.  
“Your hidden daggers, hatchet, and bow are upstairs.” You spoke to the male without looking away from your job. The male gave a small thanks as he ascended the stairs to retrieve his weapons and care for them. As you finished the stitching up the tears in his coat, you opened the lapel of it to sew in an injury warding sigil. Maybe it would help prevent the coat from being shredded again as well. At the cuffs of his sleeves, speed sigils were sewed in, to help with weapon speed. Then, with a press of your wand, the sigils were sealed.  
“What do those sigils mean?” You jumped in your seat as you turned up towards the male. I didn’t even hear him.  
“Ah- Um, they’re for injury warding and swiftness.” The male blinked and looked down at them before glancing back up at you.  
“Why do you help me further? I am an assassin.”  
“I don’t know, why do you trust me, I’m a witch.” Connor paused for thought.  
“You do not seem as if you would hurt somebody without cause.”  
“As would you. Just because you’re an assassin doesn’t mean you kill without cause. Besides, I can tell you’re a good person, Connor.”  
“And you are not?” Connor countered.  
“Just because you are a witch does not mean you are evil. You used your magick to heal me.” You let out a hum in response, and you felt the male sit next to you on the loveseat as he began to polish his weapons as you finished patching up his undershirt.  
“You must be hungry.” You said simply and stood up.  
“You really do not have to cook for me.” You let out a wry laugh.  
“My house, my rules. Now, whatcha’ hungry for?” You stood with a hand on your hip, your hat tipping to the side.  
“I am content with anything.” He spoke simply and you rolled your eyes at the response and went to the kitchen to prepare some bread and soup. Soon the sound of chopping and jars opening filled the small combined space, and as Connor sat cleaning out his weapons he noted how domestic the whole scene felt. He glanced up at you as you were leafing through a book, whether it was a magic book or cookbook, he had no idea.  
The assassin sat back to watch you move around the kitchen, hardly looking at the spices and other ingredients you grabbed and added to the soup. But, every movement you had was confident and knowing: as if you had made this very dish hundreds of times. One thing he noted was Karma helping: picking up small jars and carrying them over to your reach. It was an odd thing to watch as you danced around the kitchen occasionally waving your wand to bring ingredients to you.  
Karma paused to glance at Connor, who was unabashedly watching you step around the kitchen. The assassin met the feline’s gaze, a knowing look in her eye. With a flick of the tail, the cat returned to helping her witch master.

It wasn’t long before you had finished the dinner, a savory vegetable soup with hardy bread, complete with herbs and spices that gave a magickal boost.  
“This is incredible.” Connor commented in between bites. A blush flushed to your face, and you tipped your large hat to cover the growing color on your face.  
“Thank you, it took me a while to find a good balance of herbs for the bread. The soup is much easier, as it’s supposed to be very flavorful. Would you like me to bake you a loaf for your travels tomorrow?” The assassin blinked in surprise.  
“Well. I was planning on leaving before dark. I need to report back.”  
“What? No! You’re still hurt. If you go back out you may reopen wounds or they may get infected without proper treatment.”  
“No, I have people putting their trust in me.” Connor reached for his hidden blades, but with a quick hand you swiped them.  
“You aren’t leaving until you are healed!” You demanded, but the male easily managed to take back the weaponized bracers and hold them above his head.  
“Hm, I do not think you will be able to stop me.”  
“Oh yeah?” With a flick of your wand, the hidden blades were wrenched from his hands and now hovering above his grasp. He made an annoyed sound and leapt for them, only for them to move out of the way.  
“Hm, I don’t think you’ll be be able to stop me.” You teased as he stared at the weapons floating above him.  
“Now, I’m holding you here because I don’t want you hurting yourself further. Spare me a night of worries and stay here so I can be sure you’re fully healed.”  
“But I do not wish to intrude on your kindness any more than I already have.” A smile worked its way onto your face.  
“Connor, you’ve not intruded on anything.” The male stood, thoughtful.  
“Then, is there anything I can give you in return for this hospitality?” Your smile grew.  
“I’ll think on it.” You smiled as you turned to do the dishes.  
“Why don’t you head on upstairs and take off your bandages to let them air for a few minutes? I’ll be up soon to rebandage them.” You heard Connor’s agreement as you cleaned up.  
Soon, you were walking back up the stairs with medical supplies in your hands. You found a now shirtless Connor looking at some of your herbs you had growing in numerous different pots and planters. His body was the definition of fitness, broad muscled shoulders, a toned back… You shook yourself as you spoke up.  
“Ah, I have some bandages…” The male turned, and looked you up and down. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and sat down in a nearby chair to let you work.  
You set to analyzing the healing wounds, which were looking much much better. The swelling had gone down considerably, and all of the bleeding had stopped. No signs of infection to boot. The largest slash was a concern as it wasn’t mending as well as you wanted it to be.  
“Hold still.” You lifted your wand to the wound, spoke a few words as you drew it down the gash to seal it. Connor winced and clenched onto the chair at the feeling of his flesh stitching back together.  
“Hey, you’re doing good… Keep still…” You encouraged him as you finished the spell. He relaxed, taking in a breath as you pulled out a salve and began to apply it. A relieved sigh escaped him as you gingerly slathered on the healing cream. Then, with gentle hands you wrapped his torso and shoulders in fresh bandages.  
“It’ll need a change in the morning. Now, I’d get some rest, because I know I need it, but don’t hesitate to ask for something if you need it.”  
“Alright. Thank you, (y/n).”  
“Of course.” You smiled at him and left to your room where you promptly passed out when your head hit the pillow.

You awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through your window, Karma snoozing on the pillow beside you. You stood from your bed and dressed for the day. With careful footsteps, you moved up the stairs to Connor’s room. Peeking through the door, you spotted him just opening his eyes to meet yours, a faint smile adorning his features at the sight of you.  
“Good morning.” You fully entered the room, a smile on your face as he sat up, stretching.  
“You feeling well?” You inquired as he looked down at his bandages.  
“They feel almost fully healed.” He spoke with surprise as he worked to take the bandages off his person. The smaller cuts were no more than scars, and the larger wounds were starting to close as well.  
“Incredible.” The male muttered.  
“You are incredible.” He affirmed as you went to work, taking out stitches. A rush of heat came to your cheeks as he complimented you.  
“It’s really nothing…” You looked away abashedly, your hat concealing your face.  
“You call saving my life nothing? I do not know anyone who could have done a better job.” He brought your chin up with a gentle hand.  
“I am forever in your debt.” You met his gentle doe eyes and felt your lips pull upwards in an involuntary smile whilst your cheeks flushed with color.  
“You owe me nothing but your companionship Connor.”  
“Then I will make it a point to visit you often.” An amused noise escaped your lips as you finished taking out stitches.  
“If you do, please try and not show up half-dead washed up in my river.”  
“I will try.” Connor spoke with an amused tone in his deep voice.  
“Good. Now, get dressed and I’ll make a breakfast you can eat on the go.” You stood, giving the assassin a smile as you exited the room and down to the kitchen where you proceeded to make toast for the male.  
Karma was trotting along the floor of the kitchen, carrying a basket in her maw.  
“Oh, is that the bread for Connor? Thank you Karma.” You plucked up the basket and placed it on the counter near the door. As you used your wand to gently toast the bread you heard the creaking of the stairs as the male came down.  
As you turned, you finally got to see the native in his fully uniformed glory. The white hooded coat had beautiful stitching of an eagle on the cowl of the hood and royal blue lapels fell down his chest and to his sides. A leather back holster for his bow strung over his front and to his sides for his guns and tomahawk. The red sash that was wrapped around his waist was held in place with a belt bearing a buckle of the Assassins’ emblem. As he stepped forward, he was buckling the hidden blades to his wrists.  
To say the least: he was breathtaking. Nothing less than a legendary warrior. A smile broke out over your face once more as you stepped forward with the toast in one hand and one with your wand.  
“You look…” You paused, searching for the right word.  
“Commanding.” You finished with a smile as surprise overcame his face.  
“Thank you. You are too kind.” He spoke, whilst taking the toast in a partially gloved hand.  
“I best be going.” Connor said with wistfulness tainting his voice.  
“Ah. I wouldn’t want to keep you.” You followed him outside and pointed to the creek.  
“Follow the creek, it will lead you back to the main river and to the road.”  
“Thank you. Thank you for everything.” You nodded as he started to walk off. You watched as he moved under the shattered light of the ancient willow, the shadows casting in odd patterns on his white coat.  
“Connor!” You called out, and he turned to face you just before he was about to disappear under the curtain of willow branches, a questioning look on his face.  
“Please come back to visit anytime. I’d love to have you again.” A small smile broke across his face.  
“I will.”


End file.
